


Tender Loving Care

by Khylara



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-19
Updated: 2014-06-19
Packaged: 2018-02-05 09:17:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1813198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khylara/pseuds/Khylara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bobby's a little under the weather</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tender Loving Care

**Author's Note:**

> Set sometime after "Two Minutes To Midnight". Bobby has his soul back, but it hasn't been for long

 

“You should be in bed.”  
   
Bobby looked up from the computer screen he had been staring at for the past ten minutes and scowled at the demon standing nonchalantly in his kitchen doorway. “What in the Hell are you doing here?”  
   
“Taking care of you apparently. Since you’re obviously not capable of doing it yourself.”  Stepping closer, Crowley frowned at the little piles of used tissues decorating the desk before taking a closer look at the Hunter.  His eyes narrowed when he noted Bobby’s red nose, flushed cheeks and watery eyes.  “You look terrible.  What have you been doing?”  
   
“None of your damn business,” Bobby griped, clicking off the computer for good measure. Granted, what he was looking had nothing to do with the demon, but still…  “And when I want your opinion, I’ll ask.” He barely got the last word out before he started coughing.  
   
Crowley quickly put an arm up in front of his chest to keep him from falling out of his chair. “You sound terrible, too,” he commented, a note of worry entering his voice.  When the coughing tapered off, he let go of Bobby long enough to take off his hat and toss it on top of the computer keyboard.  
   
“What the Hell?” Bobby growled, making a grab for it.  
   
Crowley gave him a look.  “Leave it there or I’ll give it to the Hellhounds to use as a chew toy.” He ignored the glare Bobby shot at him as he leaned forward enough to brush a kiss against the other man’s forehead. “Just as I thought. You’re burning up, darling.”  
   
Bobby jerked his head away.  “Don’t call me that,” he growled, his cheeks becoming even redder with embarrassment.  “And I’m fine.”  
   
“You are not fine,” the demon countered, his voice firm.  “You are the furthest away from fine that I’ve ever seen. And from the looks of things I’m guessing you probably caught something from one of those idiots after they ran into Pestilence.” He looked down at Bobby.  “I thought I told you to scrub everything down after dealing with them.”  
   
“Did,” Bobby managed to get out before he began coughing again.  
   
“Not well enough apparently.  You’ll be lucky if it’s not the bubonic plague or something equally nasty.” Crowley brushed his fingers over Bobby’s cheeks, trying to gauge just how sick the other man was. “Although from the look of things, I think it’s just the flu. Which still isn’t good.”  
   
“Why…” There was another bout of coughing.  “Why isn’t it?”  
   
“You just got your soul back, darling.  You need to be a little more careful with things until it’s used to being home again.”   He ran his fingers through Bobby’s red hair for a moment, thinking.  “Stay right there. I’ll be back.” Making sure the other man was steady enough to remain upright without him to lean on for a bit, Crowley disappeared.  
   
He came back a moment later with a steaming mug cradled in both hands. “Here,” he said, thrusting it under Bobby’s nose.  “Drink it.”  
   
The Hunter took a cautious sniff. “What is it?”  
   
“Tea. Earl gray, to be more precise. It’s supposed to help you feel better.” When Bobby continued to hesitate, Crowley made a show of rolling his eyes.  “If I really wanted to hurt you don’t you think I would have by now?” He waved a hand toward Bobby for emphasis.  “Especially since your defenses are down so spectacularly?”  
   
“And how should I know? Especially since you’re such a sneaky bastard,” Bobby grumbled even as he took a sip. He wrinkled his nose. “Sweet.”  
   
“There’s honey in it. With all the coughing you’re doing, your throat is probably sore.” He watched as Bobby took another, longer sip. “Better?”  
   
“Yeah…is a bit.” Bobby looked up. “Thanks.”  
   
“You’re welcome.” Crowley stood in front of Bobby for a long moment, simply watching the hunter as he drank his tea. “You know…you really should start trusting me a little. Considering things, I mean.”  
   
A sheepish look crossed Bobby’s face. “Sorry. Old habits…you know?”  
   
“I do, actually.” Crowley offered a small smile.  “I keep expecting to walk into a demon trap or to find the Colt shoved up my nose the first chance my back’s turned.”  
   
Bobby shook his head.  “Wouldn’t do that to you.” He took another sip of his tea. “If I have to take you out…I’d do it to your face. So you’d know…and know why.”  
   
Crowley considered that for a moment.  “Good to know.”   
   
“But I’m not gonna.” There was a pause.  “I know I owe ya…for these.” He put a hand on one leg.  
   
Crowley shook his head.  “No, Bobby, you don’t. For the last time…those were a gift. No strings…no deals…no ulterior motives. A freely given gift.”  Taking the now empty mug out of his hands, Crowley leaned forward enough to brush his lips against Bobby’s. “And you damn well should know why by now.”  
   
Sighing heavily, Bobby closed his eyes for a moment and rested his forehead against the demon’s.  “Yeah…yeah, I know why.”  There was another pause.  “Idgit.”  
   
“Blunderbuss.”  Crowley’s voice was laced with affection as he planted another kiss in the other man’s red hair. “Come on.  You’re going to lie down for a bit.  And after…after I’ll fix you one of those quaint human remedies.  Chicken soup, was it?”  
   
“Yeah, that’s it.”  Bobby started to pull away.  “But I can’t.  There was stuff…Dean and Sam…”  
   
Crowley silenced him with another kiss. “All that will keep for a few days,” he countered, his voice was firm.  “Those two idiots can take care of themselves for once in their lives.  Or their pet angel can do a lick of work for a change.” He snorted. “Although…that would be a first.”  
   
“But…”  
   
“No buts. You,” He poked a finger at Bobby’s chest. “Need to rest. And you need to do it now. It’ll only get worse if you don’t and you don’t want to be laid up for days on end, do you?”  
   
Bobby was silent for a long moment before he let out another heavy sigh. “Yeah…maybe you’re right.”  
   
“Of course I’m right. I’m always right.” Letting Bobby go, Crowley moved across the room to the couch. Sitting down, he patted the spot next to him.  “Come on over here, darling.”  
   
“Told you to stop calling me that,” Bobby grumbled even as he sat down next to Crowley.  
   
“Like I’m ever going to listen to you when you tell me things like that,” Crowley chided gently as he grasped Bobby’s shoulders.  He pulled until the other man’s head was nestled securely in his lap. “Here. Put your feet up and get comfortable.”  Reaching behind him, he pulled the afghan folded up off the back of the sofa and managed to get it around Bobby’s frame. “There. Now be quiet and close your eyes.” He began running his fingers through the hunter’s red hair.  
   
Bobby did as he was told, letting the combined fragrance of expensive cologne and the faintest touch of sulfur wash over his senses. “That’s nice,” he murmured, letting himself relax under the demon’s touch.  
   
“Shhh.” Leaning down, Crowley pressed a kiss right above his lover’s ear. “Get some rest, darling,” he murmured, smiling as Bobby let out one last muttered grumble before dropping off and beginning to snore.  “Maybe I should call you steam engine, instead? It would certainly fit.”  He pretended to consider the idea.  “No…darling fits you quite well, Bobby Singer. Quite well.”  
   
Cuddled under the ragged afghan and secure in his demon’s embrace, Bobby snored on.

 


End file.
